“TREY.”
Trey looked toward the doorway, where Lance stood. He’d left Trey and Kendra alone, but now he was back and Trey knew why. It was time to talk.
He eased his arms from Kendra, laying her head on the bed, and met Lance in the hall. “We can talk in here,” he said, “in my room.”
Trey motioned for Lance to take the desk chair, and he sat on the bed, pushing aside dirty and clean clothes. His eyes floated past the shelves—Awana trophies, Bibles in different translations, journals. They reminded him why he spent little time here.
“I was glad to get your text this morning.” Lance leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“I’ll be straight with you,” Trey said. “I only came because I made a deal with Molly. But after that”—he pointed to Kendra’s room, shaking his head—“I don’t even see the point. Everything is just crazy.”
Lance’s gaze penetrated. “You said some things in Kendra’s room that were troubling.”
“What, that I want to die? That’s nothing new.”
“How long have you felt that way?”
Lance seemed taken aback by that. “Why, Trey?”
“Why not? Life is too hard. I figured it was easier to just go be with Jesus.”
“But you looked so . . . I don’t know, happy when you were younger.”
“I was naive,” Trey said. “I believed what I was taught, that God loved me, that He cared. I had hope. I really thought God answered prayer.”
“You don’t think so anymore?”
“Not mine,” Trey said. “And what more could I do?” He gestured at the shelves. “I was going hard after God—reading my Bible, trying to fill myself with it, to push out everything else. Man, I memorized whole books of the Bible.” He threw up his hands. “It’s like I’ve been at war, by myself. I’m not doing it anymore.”
Lance was quiet a moment. “What made you want to talk? Why today?”
“Friends in Atlanta called,” Trey said. “They’ve been trying to get me to come down, and the timing seems perfect. I’m moving next week.” He paused. “But I told Molly a year ago that if I ever planned to move, to make sure I talk to someone first.” He shrugged. “I was trying to put accountability in place, back when I cared about it.”
“I’m confused,” Lance said. “Why would you need accountability regarding a move?”
Trey sifted his words . . . It was about to get real. “Being here, being with Molly . . . It’s been a form of protection for me.” He shifted his gaze downward. “But for a long time I’ve felt this temptation to leave. Like, if I got away from everything I’ve known, it would be easier to embrace who I really am.”
“What are you saying, Trey? Who are you?”
Trey’s heart began pounding in his chest. He was suddenly afraid. Of rejection. Condemnation. Of every painful thing he’d ever read or heard about people like himself. He got up, paced a little. Why did he have to be different? Why did he have to be the outcast? All he ever wanted was to feel loved by God. Accepted. To not feel like a reject. He’d pleaded with God for years, his journal filled with one request—Lord, change me.
Why wouldn’t He?
He looked up. Why wouldn’t You answer that one prayer, God?
Stop pleading with Him. You already know He doesn’t care.
Trey closed his eyes, hands fisted in frustration. But I want Him to care. It hurts that He doesn’t care.
“Trey.” Lance turned him around. “Whatever it is, I love you, man. I love you.”
Trey broke down in his arms. Years of pain, years of guilt, years of silence . . . all of it washed up on Lance’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do,” Trey said. “I don’t know what to do.”
Lance stepped back, held his shoulders. “Trey, what is it?”
“I’m . . .” He swiped the tears. “I’m gay.”
Lance kept looking at him. “Okay.”
“What do you mean okay?” Trey looked dumbfounded. “You’re a pastor. Now’s when you say I’m going to hell.”
“I said okay because I’m still listening.”
“Listening to hear what?” Trey said.
“I don’t even know what you mean by gay.”
Now Trey was exasperated. “You don’t know what it means?”
“I don’t know what you mean. Are you referring to an inclination? An attraction? Or have you entered into it and acted on it?”
“I haven’t acted on anything,” Trey said. “That’s what I’ve been fighting. That’s what my prayers have been about.”
“Okay,” Lance said again, sitting back down. “Do you mind telling me what you’ve been praying?”
Trey took a breath, sitting as well, thinking back to those first prayers. “From the time I hit puberty”—he couldn’t believe he was sharing this—“it was clear I had no interest in girls. Other guys, that’s all they talked about. I wanted to be like them. Thought I would grow into it, but it didn’t happen.” He sighed. “Meanwhile, I start seeing what the Bible says about it, and I’m saying, ‘Lord, I don’t want to be this way, but I know I can’t change myself. I see all these miracles you’ve done from Genesis to Revelation. This is nothing for You. Please, change me. Make me heterosexual.” He looked at Lance. “That’s been my ceaseless prayer.”
“So in your mind, if God doesn’t give you a desire for women, He hasn’t answered your prayer. And if He doesn’t answer that prayer, your only other option is to embrace the gay lifestyle.”
Trey gave him a look that said it was evident. “Right.”
“And temptation gets crazy overwhelming because you’re trying to suppress this urge that’s in you, and you get these thoughts that say, ‘It’s not worth the fight. Just do it.’ ”
Trey’s eyes got a little wider. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m single, Trey. Temptation comes hard at me, too, toward women. I’ve prayed for God to take away the desire for sex outside of marriage. It gets overwhelming at times. I’ve had women at church invite me over, and it’s clear what they have in mind—and I want to go. I think to myself sometimes that if I never get married, this will be a lifelong struggle.”
Trey wasn’t sure where Lance was going with this, but his heart and mind clamored to understand. “What are you saying to me, Lance?”
Lance took his time, looking at him. “I’m saying, you’ve prayed to be heterosexual, as if that’s the gold standard. The opposite of homosexuality isn’t heterosexuality—a whole heckuva lot of people are sinning with the opposite sex.” His voice had equal parts warmth and strength. “God didn’t call you to be heterosexual, Trey. He called you to be holy, like Him.”
Trey let Lance’s words settle, words that looped over and over in his head. Heterosexuality had been the gold standard as far as he’d been concerned. Those who were attracted to the opposite sex were the blessed ones, the normal ones. In his mind, they lived several rungs above, in space he longed to occupy.
But why did he think that? Suddenly he realized—that wasn’t in the Bible.
“I have the same battle as you,” Lance said. “The battle for holiness. We’re pursuing the same standard. We’re in this together.”
“But what if God never changes me? What kind of life would I live?”
“I wish I could tell you all the plans God has for you,” Lance said. “But I know He’ll show you. And what kind of life? Any life lived in Christ is an abundant life.”
Trey stared into the distance, his thoughts like scattered puzzle pieces trying to find shape and structure. He felt a pressing need to pray, but what would his prayers look like now? Could he pray with any feeling of closeness to God? It had been so long.
“Something else . . . ,” Lance said.
Trey looked at him.
“When something is in our lives that brings affliction or suffering or any struggle we can’t control, we’re more aware of our need for God. We’re more aware that this is not our home, that we have a greater hope.” Lance paused. “It might seem that God doesn’t care because He won’t remove the struggle. But when you start looking to Him in the midst of it, you get to see His love and care in deeper ways than most.”
“I could see that, actually,” Trey said. When he did feel good about praying again, he thought, he would pray that for Kendra.
A smile broke onto Lance’s face. “I just thought about something you said. So God used Molly as protection for you, huh?”
“I hadn’t thought about it being something God did.” Trey smiled with him at the thought. “Molly and I met freshman year and became best buds. I helped her through some things and was kind of trying to lead her to the faith. But my own issues popped up when Mom got sick and the stuff with my dad came out.” He sighed. “We ended up both going down the partying road.”
Lance nodded. “I know a little something about U-turns on wrong roads.”